Lyrics By Brenda Sutton © 2005
This old gun and that there friend -
The two on whom I do depend -
Are the only two who walked with me
From the tewuda Valley of Serenity
That there friend, this here gun
Walk on with me when the day is done -
One at my back; one in my hand
In whatever war where we two stand
Fought my share of losing battles
Held the line and been betrayed
But for these two, there's nothing I won't/can't do
With these two I'm unafraid
With these two you/we will be paid.
My Pa wore this old piece, too.
Only scrap of a life I knew
That I shall never know again.
This old piece spits lead and pain.
That there woman, she's warrior bred.
All she's loved, 'cept me, are dead
She's slept in hell and marched in mire
And never flinched when I said, "Fire!"
This double-crossing is getting old
Ai ya! You want to steal my gold
And to top it off, you hundan scum,
With the drop on me, you demand my gun?
Now, you might ask, "Why ain't he riled?"
You might wonder why I smiled?
Well the thing I ken that you do not -
My good friend, she's a damn fine shot.